


I Leave My Phone On Silent

by Oi_Josuke



Category: Tom Clancy's Rainbow Six (Video Games)
Genre: Anger Management, Canon-Typical Violence, Crying, Developing Friendships, Developing Relationship, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Graphic Description of Corpses, Hurt/Comfort, Men Crying, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-05
Updated: 2020-04-21
Packaged: 2021-02-28 17:22:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,117
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23030896
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Oi_Josuke/pseuds/Oi_Josuke
Summary: Grace “Dokkaebi” Nam, always prided herself on her profound hacking capabilities. Some would often say she trusted computers and code more than those of flesh and blood. But, when one man, Mark "Mute" Chandar, pits himself against Grace's hacking abilities, how far will Grace go to learn about the man who should be her enemy?
Relationships: Mark "Mute" Chandar/Grace "Dokkaebi" Nam, Timur “Glaz” Glazkov & Mark “Mute” Chandar
Comments: 6
Kudos: 54





	1. Maybe, I just don't like you.

**Author's Note:**

> So, part of the reason this even exists is because I got unbelievably bored.  
> Was 90% of this written on my phone? yes.  
> Is it my proudest achievement? definitely not.  
> Do I still care about it? Yes.  
> If some manage to enjoy this story, I'll do my best to keep it updated.  
> No promises!

_ “ _ _ My father always told me that silence could be a powerful ally.” _

_ “Really? How so?” _

_ “The quieter you are, the easier it is to hear everything and everyone around you.” _

_ —————— _

Grace “Dokkaebi” Nam, always prided herself on her profound hacking capabilities. Some would often say she trusted computers and code more than those of flesh and blood. And while they weren’t  _ 100%  _ incorrect, even Grace would admit that there were some things that humans could do better than machinery.

Nevertheless, most people were still painfully ignorant of what machinery could do; what could be  _ taken  _ thanks to it. 

Back when Grace had joined the  _ Rainbow  _ program and there were only around 36 active operators before her plane had even touched down near Hereford Base in the UK, she had minimum knowledge on  _ nearly  _ every active operator thanks to the one thing that no one thought to protect.

_ Their phones _ .

An accomplishment that Grace still prided herself on to be sure, but the  _ “nearly,”  _ that she had to squeeze into every sentence she made regarding it always rubbed her the wrong way. The math was fairly simple.

36 active operators, and yet she only had access to a total of  _ 35  _ phones. Which meant  _ someone  _ was either smart or had no cellular device. Both scenarios sparked the slightest fires of annoyance in Grace. 

Only when her plane touched solid ground, did Grace find the answer to her problem.

Mark R. “Mute” Chandar. The living embodiment of the one thing Grace despised.

An unknown variable. An  _ anomaly _ . 

For days on end, Grace sat hunched at her desk in her dormitory, searching for the slightest clue as to who Mark was. Everything about him was foreign to her.

No phone, no internet presence, nothing.

No backdoors she could exploit, no texts or emails she could disrupt, no servers with data to be expunged. Every second Grace spent digging was another minute to which her annoyance grew.

Even as  _ Rainbow’s  _ population grew and new operators joined the organization. Grace found herself still  _ obsessing,  _ as some would say, over Mark. Her incessant need to know everything crushed her internally.

However, just because Mark himself was an anomaly to her, didn’t mean he was to others. A fact that Grace couldn’t wait to exploit as she marched down to the Mess Hall of  _ Rainbow’s  _ base of operations. In search of one of Mark’s fellow SAS operators, Mike “Thatcher” Baker.

He sat alone in the back corner of the mess hall, eating either the blandest or, the most basic of meals as he absentmindedly scrolled through his phone. 

Grace sat across from Mike, picking up her right leg to rest it on her left leg in a figure four esque manner. Mike watched Grace from the corner of his eye, pausing his activities to watch the younger woman cautiously.

“Mike.”

“Grace,” there was a sense of tension in Mike’s voice, a small feature that made Grace smirk ever so slightly. The way he leaned back in his chair, expecting something to go wrong, always being prepared.

“Do you know where I could find Mark? There are some things I would like to discuss with him,” Grace rocked back and forth in the cheap mess hall chair, a clear contrast to Mike’s still demeanor. Grace watched carefully as Mike rolled up his sleeve and checked a watch on his wrist, an act that caused Grace to cringe internally, considering he was on his phone mere seconds ago. Mike let out something akin to a groan before facing Grace once again.   
“He’s usually down in the R&D Labs right about now, probably tinkering the shite outta his devices,” Grace notices how Mike’s foot started tapping rapidly under the table. Either out of nervousness or out of annoyance, she didn’t know. Nor did she care. 

Grace gave Mike a devilish smile, standing up quickly, readjusting her beanie as it slipped down her forehead ever so slightly. 

“Thanks, Mike,” Grace heard the disinterested grunt Mike gave her as she passed by, but didn’t pay him much mind.

It didn’t take long for Grace to find the R&D Labs, as she herself spent plenty of time down there to improve her Logic Bomb, or just to snoop on her fellow operators. What did take her a fair amount of time, however, was finding the source of her irritation.

Mark often wore a C50 CBRN mask during simulations or active missions, trying to find the man on his off time without his iconic mask was a daunting task, to say the least. But Grace always liked a challenge, finding a man whose face you’ve never seen would be easier than “finding a needle in a haystack,” as some would say. It only took Grace a handful of minutes to find her suspect.

He sat hunched over one of the workbenches, his MP5K disassembled and cleaned, alongside his P226 MK25 pistol. One of his signal disruptors sat in front of him, various pieces of its plating sat off to the side as Mark conducted either repairs or improvements.

Much to Grace’s chagrin, however, was how he sat. His back was perfectly straight, eluding perfect posture. He sat unmoving, and perfectly silent, focused solely on the task at hand.

“Working on your jammers there, Mark?” Grace leaned into the side of Mark’s workbench, placing her chin in her hands as she focused on Mark’s features. 

The young man’s brow knitted together in irritation, taking a deep breath as he continued to stare down his device instead of Grace beside him.

“Can always improve it, no point in delaying that,” Mark spoke quietly, Grace snickered at the coincidence, comparing Mark’s demeanor to his codename.

“You listen to music at all, Mark?” Grace sat opposite to Mark at the workbench, leaning forward to watch him intently as he worked.

“Not particularly, no,” Grace could detect the slight edge to Mark’s voice, whether it was annoyance or general unease she couldn’t tell. Even so, she grinned madly, looking up from his disruptor to look Mark in the eyes, an act he didn’t reciprocate.

“Funny. To think one of our fellow OPs listens to the loudest and most extreme genre of music, and to have one who listens to none at all, it’s an interesting contrast, no?”Grace rested her head in her hands, flicking her gaze between Mark and his device, the man in question only humming in response to Grace’s observation.

“Can I ask you a question, Mark?” Grace straightened her posture, watching Mark with a keen eye as he looked at her from the corner of his eye, furrowing his brows before resuming his work.   
“I suppose.”

“Why  _ is _ , your codename,  _ Mute? _ ” As Grace stood, she watched as Mark’s movement came to a sudden and sharp stop. His hands froze above his disruptor, his eyes closed as he took a steady breath. Grace stood there in silence, hoping Mark would answer her question.

After many agonizing minutes, - for Grace at least- Mark placed his tools down and stood up. He shifted his body, standing tall in front of Grace, grabbing his CBRN mask off this table beside him. 

“I get asked that a lot,” Mark’s voice was still quiet, Grace simply stayed standing in front of him, eyebrows quirked up in confusion as the man took the first few steps to pass her.

“A lot of people assume it’s because I don’t like to talk very much,” Mark passed Grace as he made his way to the exiting doors of the R&D Labs,

Grace watched as Mark pushed open the doors, stopping momentarily in the doorway as he looked over his shoulder.

“Maybe, I just don’t like you.”

Grace could feel her forehead twist in irritation, her lips curling into a frown as she stood in between workbenches, Mark’s MP5 and P226 left behind as the man exited.

Getting Mark to open up to her was going to be harder than expected.


	2. A Friend In Need

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some conversations take place

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this earned a chapter 2 real quick. I'm surprised myself.  
> In this chapter, there are some Russian and Korean words that will have translations in the end chapter notes, just look for the corresponding number!

Mark hated,  _ hated,  _ small talk. Why talk about pointless nothings when you could be improving the very thing that would be saving your life in an active situation? He knew Grace was simply trying to be polite and friendly; making some simple conversation so she could get to know a fellow operator a little better - him in this case - but,  _ geez,  _ he thought his pet peeve was common knowledge by now. 

Mark let out an aggravated sigh as he pushed open his dormitory door, tossing his CBRN mask onto his nearby desk. Nearly collapsing into his desk chair, Mark rubbed his face in his hands. Cursing whatever god there may be as he turned on his computer, switching on his personalized VPN and entering his virtual machine as he connected another one of his disruptors to his computer via multiple chords.

‘Might as well work on the programming,’ cracking his knuckles unconsciously, Mark grumbled to himself as he reviewed every detail of his disruptor, getting lost within it’s inner workings.

——————

“You’re not angry because the very nature of Mark’s gadget is to make yours useless, right?”

Grace glared dangerously at one of her closest friends, Yumiko “Hibana” Imagawa. The Japanese woman twirling around in Grace’s swivel chair near her dormitory desk, her eyes scanning Grace’s small room with a teasing smile on. 

“Of course not! I’m just… a bit annoyed with him,” Grace let out a huff as she flopped back down onto her bed, her once sharp eyes now softening as she stared up at her barren ceiling. She could hear Yumiko let out an exasperated sigh as she stood up from the chair.

“Grace, you’re a 29 year old woman acting like a child,” Yumiko stated, her voice was no longer holding onto its teasing tone, instead being coated by a cautious and concerned aura.

“Not. Helping,” Grace however, still sounded and acted annoyed, her words cutting through clenched teeth as she continued to stare at her roof.

Grace felt her bed shift slightly as Yumiko sat on the edge.

“Listen, I know Mark can be a bit… abrasive,” Grace rolled her eyes as Yumiko began speaking once again.

‘Figured that one out for myself, Yumi.’

“Believe me, I don’t like it either. When I first joined  _ Rainbow,  _ the most I could get out of him was an intense glare and a nod of the head,” Yumiko kicked her feet back and forth as she spoke. Eliciting Grace to sit up, resting her back on the head of the bed as she grabbed a nearby pillow to hold in her arms.

“But, after a short while, he started opening up in a sense.”

Grace gave Yumiko a raised eyebrow in response, pressuring the girl to explain further. Yumiko studied Grace’s expression for a few long minutes before smiling softly as she moved to sit beside Grace.

“I was heading down to the gym, and was planning on doing just some simple cardio for the day,” Grace loosened her grip on the pillow as Yumiko began reciting her story.

“Mark was down there as well, as was Taina, I assumed the two had a sparring session or something of the sort, or perhaps they were simply down there to improve themselves as I was.”

“I had asked Mark if he had wanted to spar, and he accepted,” Yumiko let out a pitiful chuckle as she rubbed the back of her head. 

“He ended up getting me to submit after about 5 minutes of both of us either countering each other’s attacks, or us landing some solid hits.”

Grace turned her head to look at Yumiko with an incredulous expression. Grace opened her mouth to speak, to ask just how Mark had beaten her in hand to hand combat. Yumiko simply raised her hand to stop her friend.

“Turns out, I had a tell. Every time I’d go to throw a simple roundhouse kick to Mark’s temple, I’d drop my left hand to my side prematurely.” Yumiko curled and uncurled her left arm to demonstrate, visualizing her story for Grace. 

“As he exited the ring, he looked over his shoulder and told me, albeit a bit quietly.”

Grace furrowed her brows, watching as Yumiko started to stand.

“Listen, I don’t entirely understand why you want to talk to Mark all of a sudden, but… just give it time,” Yumiko patted Grace’s shin twice before making way for the dormitory door.

“How did you do it?”

Grace’s sudden question froze Yumiko in place, the Japanese woman turning to face her friend with a confused frown.

“Do what?”

“Get, Mark, to ‘open up to you’?” Grace used her fingers as air quotes to help solidify her point.

Yumiko shrugged as she opened the door.

“Congratulated him for successful simulations, gave him tips, discussed our different ideas, simple things.”

Grace stared Yumiko down with a frown, eyes knitting together as she shook her head in an annoyed fashion. Yumiko merely sighed.

“You two are a lot more alike than you think, it’ll be easy for you, don’t worry about it. Just remember, start with the simple things.”

Yumiko gave Grace a quick wave as she walked out of her friend’s dorm. Grace merely scowled at her now opened door, the bright lighting of the barracks hallways flooding into her semi-dark room. Groaning in frustration, Grace slid onto her back once more, rubbing her eyes and taking off her fake glasses to stare at the ceiling once again.

“Simple things,” Grace muttered angrily, letting out a long string of Korean curses as she sat up on her bed. 

Grace rubbed her eyes one last time before standing up from her bed. Heading down to the mess hall to grab a quick bite to eat.

‘Food for thought, literally.’

——————

Mark couldn’t stop the growing irritation within him, his jaw growing tighter by the second as he tried focusing on his work. He had ventured back down to the R&D Labs in hopes of improving his disruptors more than the previous day. He even tried taking Olivier’s advice and tried to listen to music to help him focus, traversing through a list of songs and bands the French operator had given him upon Mark’s request.

Even still, Mark found himself growling in annoyance as wires within his disruptor sparked. Mark could feel his right leg jerk up to knee the underside of his workbench, - his anger numbing the pain - the ensuing bang causing the other occupants of the labs, Elena María “Mira” Álvarez, to jump in surprise. Mark’s sudden jerk knocking her out of her work induced stupor.

“ _ Mierda,  _ Mark, you surprised me,” Elena placed her tools down as she rested a hand over her chest, letting out a sigh as she moved towards the younger man.

Elena stood beside Mark, placing a cautious hand on his shoulder as she attempted to look at the young man’s face.

“Is everything all right?”

“I’m fine,” the words came out much harsher than Mark intended. His brows were furrowed together as he turned his head to look at the older, Spanish woman. 

Whether Elena thought Mark’s irritated glare was directed towards her or not didn’t matter, as Mark looked away just as fast. Elena frowned upon the interaction, softly removing her hand from Mark’s shoulder as she moved to sit beside him.

“Are you still aggravated over your interaction with Grace, yesterday?” Elena asked softly, not wanting to overstep any boundaries she and Mark might have had.

Mark looked taken back for a moment, confusion spreading onto his face before he relaxed, his gaze flickering to a nearby security camera as he shook his head.

“It’s nothing, Elena. Just got too much shite on my mind right now.”

Elena pursed her lips, placing a hand on the workbench to steady herself as she stood. 

“She’s a hard worker, Mark, just like you,” Elena gave Mark a pat on the shoulder as she turned to return to her own workbench. “I know you’re not one for small talk but… maybe you should try to find someone other than Timur to talk to.” 

Elena gave Mark a soft smile before flipping her welding mask back down over her face, the English man merely sighed in return, hoping to return to his work sooner rather than later. Elena’s words repeated in his head like a sickening mantra. The only reason, Mark, even  _ considered  _ Timur “Glaz” Glazkov as one of his friends, was due to the Russian’s similar way of thinking. Being able to take a situation and see it’s different, unique possibilities and the abstract nature of the Russian’s thinking always complimented Mark’s. 

Maybe Elena was right. Maybe Mark should push out of his comfort zone; maybe he should try to mend whatever relationship he had so far with Grace. With a frustrated grunt, Mark returned to his work on his disruptor. Mellowing in his thoughts as he worked vigorously. Becoming engrossed, as his mind focused solely on the machinery in front of him.

——————

Grace smiled devilishly as she opened the doors to the Mess Hall. Not too far from the main doors, sat Timur Glazkov, the one man Mark considered a friend; the one man that Grace needed at this very moment. Grace walked feverishly towards the Russian sniper, barely being able to contain her childlike glee at finding a source of intel on Mark.

Grace slid in front of Timur as the Russian ate, his blue eyes squinting as he cautiously eyed the Korean in front of him.

“Timur,” Grace’s devilish smile widened as Timur’s glare softened.

“Grace, to what do I owe the pleasure?” Timur spoke in a calculated manner, each word chosen to further the conversation instead of hindering it.

“Oh, nothing,” Grace leaned back in her chair, wrapping an arm around it in a relaxed manner. “Simply wanted to catch up with my favourite Russian. Is that so much to ask?”

Timur scoffed at the statement, grinning wildly as he crossed his arms in front of his chest.

“You and I both know  _ that’s  _ a lie,” Timur leaned forward, arms still crossed as his grin grew even wider. “You’re here because of Mark, no?”

Grace’s wild grin dropped rapidly into a frown, her relaxed arm unraveling from the chair as she copied Timur’s posture; arms crossed, but her back was much stiffer than the Russian’s. The man in question letting out a hearty laugh at Grace’s expression, raising his hands in a mock surrender fashion to help calm Grace.

“Do not worry, Yumiko informed me of your, Как это сказать( 1) ... situation,” Timur chuckled after every word, struggling to contain his laughter as Grace rolled her eyes at him.

“I’m glad my  _ unease _ , amuses you, 너 반값 (2) ,” Grace spat back, glaring at Timur as the Russian tried to calm his laughter.

“Do not worry, мой дорогой (3) , the only reason I know, is because Yumiko expected you to come to me for conversation topics,” Timur rubbed his chin thoughtfully, a grin formed by his laughter prior still sticking to him as he pondered over the subject. “You may be in luck, I believe Mark mentioned to me he was learning Korean. Perhaps, you can assist him with that in the future?”

Grace’s angered expression softened instantly, a childlike smile growing as she leaned forward towards Timur. 

“You’re serious?” Grace could barely contain her excitement, this was just too good to be true. Timur merely raised his hands in a defensive manner.

“I am not one hundred percent on the details, I simply believe he brought it up in that past,” Timur’s teasing grin grew into a sincere one, Grace’s glee being almost infectious.

“Thank you, Timur!” Grace shot up from her chair, practically racing out of the Mess Hall with a chuckling Russian left in the dust. A giant, goofy grin plastered on her face as she raced to the R&D Labs.

Everything was coming up Grace!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. Как это сказать (Kak eto skazat) Eng. How to say it.  
> 2\. 너 반값 (neo bangabs) Eng. Roughly translates to 'halfwit' or 'halfprice'  
> 3\. мой дорогой (moy dorogoy) Eng. My dear.


	3. Is this a test? It has to be.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Comfort’s all I need

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I did a thing. After reading Mute’s psychological profile and biography in game. I noticed just how boring it kinda was and decided to give him something to hopefully aid to the story. What is this thing you might ask?  
> An inferiority complex that’s what! :D  
> Hopefully I can at least make it an interesting plot point through out the story, I apologize in advance if I screw it up.  
> Disclaimer : this entire chapter was written on my phone, I apologize for any mistakes and I will hopefully fix them quickly if I come across any myself.

“Mark… Mark, you’re running out of time!”

“I know, I know! Just… let me focus. Just a little longer.”

“Mark we don’t have  _ ‘a little longer,’  _ we need it diffused now!”

“Not helping!”

The incessant beeping of the training bomb echoed in Mark’s mind. No… no, no, no, he wasn’t going to make it. He just… he needed it to be quiet. He needed silence. The familiar buzzing of Grace’s Logic Bomb filled his last remaining partner, Meghan “Valkyrie” Castellano's pocket. The jammer that sat beneath him saved his phone from a similar fate.

“Turn it off, turn it off,” his muttering was filled with malice. It wasn’t Meghan’s fault, he knew that, she was busy keeping Grace and the rest of her team back as he desperately tried to disable their diffuser. Another volley of practice rounds embedded themselves in the wall above him and around Meghan. Small chunks of drywall bounced off his body, a sheet of dust covering him head to toe as he crouched down next to the diffuser.

His partner grit her teeth in anger? Annoyance? Disbelief? Mark wasn’t sure. Even though his CBRN mask hindered his vision ever so slightly, he could still see the distraught look Meghan wore. Her incoherent shouts and mumbles filled his ear.

“Mark!”

“Just shut up! Stop talking!”

But Mark knew. No matter how hard he tried - how quickly he wrote that code - he couldn’t beat the timer. He had mere seconds left.

The completion bar inched its way closer. He let that small seed of hope sit in his stomach for a few mere seconds.

But just as he had predicted, just as that dreadful little bar reached its goal, the buzzer had signaled the end of the situation. 

_ “Defenders failed to disable the diffuser! Attackers win!” _

Mark sat in silence, those first two words swimming in his mind.

“ _ Defenders failed… defenders failed… defenders failed.” _

Each time it repeated, the anger in Mark grew. He should’ve been better. He could hear Meghan let out a defeated sigh, the mechanical clicks of her MPX seemed to resonate in the small room they stood in.

“Maybe… maybe we’ll get it next time.”

Mark could feel Meghan put her hand on his shoulder as if to console him. Looking out of the corner of his eye, he could see her crouching beside him, looking at him with a sad smile.

“You did your best, no one will blame you.”

Mark shrugged her hand off, an action which caused her lips to tug into a frown, a look of hurt crossing her face as Mark stood. He tossed down the tablet used to disable the diffuser haphazardly, the device landing with a hard  _ thud. _

_ “ _ Clearly it wasn’t good enough.”

—————

Grace watched Mark leave the training grounds. The look on his face hurt her to see. He looked angry, frustrated, disappointed.

He looked  _ ashamed _ .

Grace nudged Mike’s arm with her elbow, gesturing towards the solemn man as he pushed open the doors to the dormitory buildings. A worried frown adorning the young Korean’s face.

“Will Mark be okay?” Her question came out quietly, just above a whisper. Mike seemed surprised at first, rubbing his chin thoughtfully as he too watched Mark enter the dormitory building.

“He’ll be right, he usually gets like this if he messes up,” Mike patted Grace’s back, taking a few steps forward as he prepared himself to leave.

“But… why?”

The question came out before Grace could stop herself, her frown remaining persistent as Mike turned around once more. Mike’s own frown formed, pondering over the question as he gestured for Grace to follow him.

“Mark… Mark’s a hard worker. He takes these situations seriously, far more seriously than any operator I’ve ever met,” Mike kept a brisk pace, Grace falling behind every so often as he spoke. 

“Right now… right now I bet he’s chastising himself. Probably sayin’ things like  _ ‘what if that was a real bomb and I had to disable its arming device?’ _ Right now, he thinks he just killed 50,000 people just because he wasn’t  _ good enough. _ ”

Grace watched as Mike’s face darkened, the older Brit looking down at Grace with a forlorn look.

“Maybe you should go talk to him, you want to get to know em right?”

Grace paled at the suggestion, but the longer she thought about it, it certainly seemed like a smart move. Grace looked up at Mike with a grateful smile.

“I might just do that.”

———————

Mark slammed his door shut as he entered his dormitory room. His hands curled and unfurled into fists constantly. Throwing his CBRN mask against the wall, Mark paced back and forth.

He failed. 

_ Mark Chandar wasn’t supposed to fail. _

Mark bit his index finger, Olivier and Marius could no doubt hear his footsteps. Mark didn’t care, he just needed to vent.

A knock at his door made Mark shoot his head up, eyeing the door with a glare.

“Mark?” Grace’s quiet voice was muffled behind his door. Mark let out a grunt of annoyance, walking towards his door with a rather aggressive step. Throwing open the door, he glared down at the shorter woman.

“What?!” Grace nearly flinched at Mark’s tone. Her lips fumbled into a frown as she corrected the beanie on her head.

“I just wanted to see how you were holding up, Mark. You seemed rather...”  _ depressed? Pissed off? Absolutely livid? “ _ Upset,” Grace kept her own tone calm, hoping her concern and empathy would calm the angry Brit. Mark certainly didn’t seem the most conversational at the moment however, was Mike setting her up to fail? The young man in front of her grimaced, his hand on the door frame curling into a fist. 

“Did Mike, put you up to this?” Mark’s voice grew softer with each fleeting moment. Grace watched Mark carefully, their first interaction was shaky enough, she didn’t want to repeat past events.

“No, not entirely. It was his idea, I just followed through.”

Mark eyed her cautiously, slowly pushing himself out of the doorway.

“Well… I’m fine,” Grace seemed to light up, her downtrodden look being replaced quickly with a wide smile. Mark turned around to re-enter his room, and Grace was quick to follow. She saw Mark’s baffled expression as she sat on the rickety bed near the centre of the room, but she elected to ignore it.

“So, Timur told me you were thinking of learning Korean?” Grace swung her legs over the edge of the bed, watching Mark sit down at his nearby desk chair, eyeing her cautiously like he did at his doorway.

“I am,” Mark’s tone matched his eyes. Unwavering,  _ untrusting. _ He seemed to be waiting for Grace to make some bold move, but… what kind of move?

“I was wondering if you… wanted some help?” Grace watched Mark’s eyes sharpen. His hands tightened around the arms of his chair, she could see his cheeks tighten in an unknown emotion as he studied her. Grace couldn’t deny that she felt rather small under his scrutinizing gaze, and she mentally cursed herself for it.

“When?” The question caught Grace off guard, was Mark accepting her offer? This was great!

“Every other day?” Grace wrapped one of her pig tails around her finger, watching with bated breath as Mark’s gaze seemed to float away.

“I’ll think about it,” Mark turned around, hurriedly turning on his PC while Grace sat on his bed, unsure of what to do.

“I… O-Okay!” Grace shot up from Mark’s bed. Marveling slightly at Mark’s computer before awkwardly moving to his door. With a curious glance back, Grace watched Mark as he stared fervently at his monitors, the three screens seemingly wrapping around him in a technological cocoon.

“Goodbye, Mark,” Grace was pushing her luck, she knew that but, she couldn’t help but  _ try. _

She merely earned silence for her efforts.

With a small  _ click _ , Grace closed the door to Mark’s dormitory. She stared at the old wood in bewilderment for a few moments.

That definitely went better than expected.

——————

Mark cursed under his breath. “ _ I’ll think about it,” _ what on earth was he talking about? There was nothing to _ think about _ . He liked to do things alone, what made learning a language so different. 

He could already hear Timur in his mind.

“ _ You’re being arrogant, let her help. _ ”

Mark let out a huff of annoyance. He hated how true that sounded. Grumbling out a  _ “fine,” _ Mark turned his PC off, exiting his dorm room in more casual clothing. 

Mark walked briskly to the base's library. His hands tucked into his sweat pant pockets as he hurried his pace. 

Mark wasn’t expecting to see Grace so soon after talking to her, he truly did need time to think. To see her sitting in one of the many chairs of the library, a prick of annoyance nipped at him. It was perfectly ok for her to be here, made sense even; but from previous interactions he knew she’d try to make small talk with him as he found his own section of the library to reside in. He just couldn’t be seen. Stay invisible, and he could have some peace. 

“Mark.”

But there it was. Her voice. Cutting through his carefully constructed serenity like a knife. She peered at him over her chair, a welcoming smile or a mere grin sat on her face, Mark couldn’t tell which face she chose to wear. 

Mark muttered out a messily “Grace,” before sitting down a few chairs away from her. Mark hoped she’d assume that he was being kind; sitting not too far but not to close either, the perfect in between. Mark hadn’t expected her to pick up her belongings and sit next to him.

“Hope you don’t mind,” Grace’s cheeky comment was accompanied by a flashy grin.

Mark felt his mouth fall into a frown, he  _ did  _ mind but Elena was right. He needed more people than just Timur for company.

The two sat in strangely calming silence, one that Mark would dare say he enjoyed. With a quick glance, he looked at the book held in Grace’s hands.

_ Hamlet. _

“Shakespeare?” Mark raised an eyebrow, watching as Grace looked up at him from beneath those fake glasses. Her eyes widened with surprise as she slowly registered his question.

“Hmm? Oh, yes! I quite enjoy his works,” Grace looked between the page her hand currently rested upon and Mark, not quite sure where to focus her attention.

With a hum, Mark focused his attention on his own book once more. His features softened as he read in a peaceful silence. 

Had he looked out of the corner of his eye, he would’ve seen Grace looking at him with a small, but exceedingly warm smile.


End file.
